


Dear Potter

by theboywiththeskulltattoo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Letters, Lots, M/M, Post Battle of Hogwarts, eventual conclusion, pre eight year, with smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theboywiththeskulltattoo/pseuds/theboywiththeskulltattoo
Summary: Letters, over the course of one summer. A slowly building friendship, a newfound trust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quicksilvermaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Going back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094336) by [Quicksilvermaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid). 



> I sent this bit by bit to @Quicksilvermaid over the course of December. 
> 
> Your tiny ficlet inspired this!
> 
> Thank you for being my friend, for a wonderful year full of inspiration and fun - can't wait to write with you again!!

Dear Potter,

thank you very much for returning my wand. I am much obliged. 

Sincerely,

Draco Lucius Malfoy

***

No big deal. 

How are you?

Harry James Potter (seriously, Malfoy? Middle names?)

***

Potter,

I am fine. Thank you for asking.

DLM (it’s my fucking name, you uncouth dimwit)

***

Sure you’re fine. How’s the house arrest?

***

Fuck you, Potter. 

***

Hey Malfoy, 

I didn’t mean it, okay? I just had to chuckle when you wrote you’re fine, and thought, ok he’s gone crazy. Cabin fever maybe. 

I really didn’t mean it to sound nasty or sneering. 

I seriously want to know how you are. 

HJP (see? Playing by the rules)

***

Potter,

I can hardly blame you for sneering at us. We got what we deserved. 

Of course I’m not fine, but I’ll make a wild guess and say you aren’t either. (?)

DLM

***

You’re good at guessing. I don’t know anyone who’s fine right now. But it’ll be better in a couple of months. I’m thinking about going back, you know? Take McGonagall’s offer of making up for seventh year. She’s calling it eighth year. Has she written to you as well?

HJP

***

No.

DLM

***

Oookay, change of subject. How’s your mum? I hope they’ve left enough so she’s comfortable. Tell her I said Hi. 

HJP

***

My mother is just brilliant, thank you, you utter prick. And why wouldn’t she? Husband in Azkaban, her only son has a shiny new criminal record as a Death Eater, her house is full of death and the putrid stench of  _ His  _ evil presence still lingering, nice right? - and, wonderful, isn’t it - she can’t leave because she would be thrown into Azkaban as well the moment she sets foot outside! Yes, she’s AMAZINGLY well, fuckhead.

***

You forgot to write “DLM”

***

Please, Potter. 

Can’t you just leave me alone? Smiling makes my face ache, and your last letter nearly forced me to. 

DLM

***

I could, of course. But then who do I talk to? There it is, the pathetic truth. Harry Potter depends on Draco Malfoy for his daily share of people contact.

***

Potter,

I know you have to be taking the piss now, right? Right? Weasel. Granger. Weaselette. All the other Weasels. The whole wizarding world for fuck’s sake. Go talk to them. Shoo. 

DLM

***

Ron and Hermione are in Australia, trying to get her parents’ memory back. And Ginny - well, Ginny is much too busy snogging Dean Thomas whenever she can escape from home. And I don’t know if you noticed, Malfoy. But they’ve lost a son through my fault. I’m staying clear of them for a while. 

***

Sorry, forgot. 

HJP

***

Oh?

DLM

***

Oh what? Oh Potter you’re an idiot? Oh Potter it’s not your fault? Oh Potter you’ll find another girl? Been there, done that. I mean, not that, rather I’ve heard all that, so bite it back ok?

HJP

***

Potter,

well of course it is your fault. Couldn’t you just have walked right into His lair and died for everyone else? Oh wait, you did that. Fuck me, you’re an idiot. Still playing the blame game? Pathetic. 

My ‘oh’ was just surprise I reckon. Would’ve thought to hear wedding bells as soon as the appropriate period of mourning has passed. Care to tell me what happened? Not that I’m curious. I’m just bored out of my mind these days and could use some distraction.

DLM

***

What, so you can laugh at me? Oh I forgot, you don’t laugh because it hurts you. Must be shit to be you, Malfoy. Maybe if you smiled more often it wouldn’t hurt. Just saying. 

Not much to tell, after the battle and when everything was a bit calmer again she wanted to talk to me and told me she thinks we should take a break, see other people, be young and carefree for a time. 

“Carefree”, ha. 

Well, she’s being young and carefree with Dean now, not that I’m at all interested in what they’re up to.

There, laugh all you like.

HJP

Your mother told you? I owe her big time. 

***

Potter,

I’m not laughing. Getting dumped is harsh - not that this has ever happened to me, I’m generally the dumper, not the dumpee. But for what it’s worth, it’s shit to love someone who doesn’t love you back, so sorry for your pain, alright?

DLM

***

Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?

Kidding. But you have to confess, you showing empathy is something entirely new. Anyway, I don’t think my heart is broken. Maybe I didn’t love her as much as I thought? Or maybe just not in the same way. It’s not so bad, I guess. But Harry Potter - okay I’m gonna say it - Harry the Saviour Potter getting dumped is just. Not right, somehow. You know what I mean? 

HJP

***

Yes Potter, 

I do know what you mean - at least I hope I do because your handwriting gets worse with every note. You mean you’re a selfish idiot who’s pride is hurt, even if the feelings involved weren’t what he thought. Someone who, despite not liking being in the limelight (yes it took me awhile to figure that out, you win, blabla), feels he’s done enough to deserve consideration. It’s your subconscious by the way. Apparently much healthier than you. Congratulations, Potter. You’re human.

DLM

***

Thanks :) That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me! 

HJP

***

Are you being sarcastic now?

DLM

***

Actually, no. I like writing with you for a reason. You treat me like a normal human, not like some strange superhero. 

So. Thanks. 

HJP

***

A very flawed human, Potter. But you’re welcome. 

Mother sends greetings. She asked why there’s this constant parade of various owls these days. I hope you don’t mind me making our correspondence known to her?

DLM

***

Sometimes you sound as if you’ve been choked by Dickens, you know that? No, I don’t mind. Your mum is okay, the whole life-saving number and such. I wish I could help her but. At least house arrest is better than Azkaban. Sorry. 

HJP

Does it really smell like Voldemort? What’s that like? It’s not leaving my head since you wrote that. Sorry.

***

Potter,

you want to know how it is? You really want to know? 

It’s like a thick, invisible mist in every part of the manor He’s set foot in. It’s cloying and foul at the same time, like a bloated corpse. It’s dried blood and rotting meat and snake venom and pure, unfiltered evil. 

I can still hear His laughter. It wakes me up every night. 

You’ve been inside His head, Potter. How on earth do you ever sleep? 

DLM

What the fuck is a Dickens? Something naughty?

***

Draco, I’m sorry. 

Is there anything I can do to help you?

I don’t know. I guess it started early enough that I got used to it? Well, not used to it, but it doesn’t affect me any more than a headache I guess. 

HJP

Dickens is a dead Muggle who wrote tragic books. I really DON’T wanna know what you’ve been thinking about.

***

Writing to you helps a lot already. And the best is you writing back. Please don’t stop. 

Draco

***

Hey,

I have no idea what your last letter said. It was so torn, as if someone has tried to rip it from your owl’s feet. I checked if he’s hurt but he seems fine.

What did it say? The letter?

HJP

***

Nothing of importance, Potter. 

Thanks for checking on Hephaestion. He’s a very loyal bird. 

DLM

***

He’s a cutie, but almost as arrogant as his master. Kidding, Malfoy. You don’t seem arrogant to me now. I mean, you definitely were. But not anymore? I don’t know. I guess I’m wanting to say - you’ve changed. 

Have you thought about it? Can I help you anyhow? I really want to.

HJP

***

No, Potter, you can’t. But I appreciate the offer. Despite being slightly vexed by your saviour complex, you know? I still think it’s nice of you to extend it even to me. 

I just wish there was some way out of the endless darkness, out of the manor. This isn’t my home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. I have yet to set foot in the salon again. You know which one I mean. Yes, the very one. I just… can’t. 

I bet you’d be able to just walk in there and be okay, wouldn’t you? Harry fucking Potter, always so strong, always so brave. I’m a coward, but you know that already.

DLM

***

Ha, you got that wrong, Malfoy. I’d probably puke all over the carpets. I’m not that strong or brave. 

You have been very brave I think, when you didn’t rat me out to your auntie. You never told me why. I could’ve kissed you! (Kidding. I wasn’t in any mood for that.) 

Aaah, the joy of being fake-cheerful and sarcastic. Makes talking about stuff easier, doesn’t it?

HJP (This is so annoying, can’t I stop? You know it’s me by now. And I know it’s you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, as strange as this is. Drum rolls.)

***

Don’t be ridiculous, Potter, you’d never kiss me. But it would have been fun to see my lovely Auntie Bella’s face if I had started shoving my tongue down that possibly-Harry-Potter-stranger’s throat. (You are right. This does actually make it a lot easier.)

Why did I not rat you out… hm. A tough one, Potty. I guess I had - and yes, I’m really telling you this - I guess I had that tiny spark of hope somewhere in me, that you would get me - along with the rest of the wizarding world - out of the darkness. That if you survive all would be well somehow. I guess I thought of you as a light? 

I beg you to destroy this note after reading. Gives you enough ammunition to blackmail/ridicule me for the next two years.

DLM (I can’t not, okay? You don’t have to though.)

***

Thanks :)

And. Wow I guess? I never thought - you didn’t seem to think that highly of me in the RoR. First trying to finally sell me over to Voldemort, then clinging to me so hard I can still feel where your arms have pressed in my stomach. I’m not sure - did you hold on for dear life or was it a weak attempt to squish me? 

I hope the latter. Now THAT would be something to make fun of you for. Trying to squish Harry Potter to death is much funnier than you saying all those lovely things about me. I don’t want to destroy the note. I want to frame it.

***

I was desperate, Potter. 

And yet you saved me. Again. You even  _ felt _ like hope that moment, on the broom. I knew if anyone could get us out, it’d be you. 

Strange, isn’t it? So many things happened and this is all I’m thinking about when the dreams are too horrifying to go back to sleep. How all I wanted was to forever hold on to you and feel safe. Flying until the end of the world, leaving everything behind. Safe. 

Harry Potter saved the world. Harry Potter saved me. I really hate that prick. :)

Speaking of pricks, how is your broken heart? 

DLM

***

Did you actually draw a smiley? Malfoy, Malfoy. I’m impressed. 

Mending. I told you I don’t think it was ever broken. And it’s hard to have one’s pride permanently hurt when you get two dozen love letters a day. Seriously, the people! Old and young, married, single, all of them. So many - even guys! And I think maybe a goblin or two.

Believe it or not, I think about that a lot as well. I’m so sorry we couldn’t get Crabbe out too. Despite everything he was your friend and my schoolmate - he could’ve changed. You can. You have. 

***

He’d chosen his way. I don’t blame you, Potter. I blame myself for not noticing what he was about to do. Could I have stopped him? Probably not. I’m too much of a coward to actually fight.

Okay I just read the second part of your note. What the fuck, Potter??

What do you mean, even guys? Why not? What’s so bad about guys? Don’t you think they have feelings too? And they can’t know that you don’t swing their way, so why would it be strange if they tried as well as everyone else? That’s pretty sexist of you, Saint Potter. 

And I can’t believe you’re comparing us to GOBLINS, you fuckwit!

***

You actually forgot the DLM in your last note. Were you that pissed? I didn’t mean it like that. I just have never thought about that possibility. And from what I know I always thought they like the big, burly, muscled ones. With designer hair and designer beards and designer clothes. I don’t really fit that description. 

And I’m certainly NOT comparing gay guys to goblins, okay? I’m pretty sure Sirius and Remus had a thing and I wasn’t ever bothered by it. I’m just - amazed I guess that guys (oh come on, who am I kidding, guys and girls) could be into me. I’m not very attractive.

***

Potter,

your sheer ignorance is fascinating. No, not all of us are into that specific look. That’s a cliché. 

If you are fishing for compliments by talking bad about yourself you’re barking up the wrong tree. You know very well that you look good, okay? So stop it. 

DLM

***

Oops. Guess I am really ignorant. I didn’t know about you. Have you always known? I thought you’d marry Parkinson. 

Does your father know? 

Did you ever do it with a guy? Is it very different to doing it with a girl?

By the way, you did compliment me anyway. Thanks xx

***

Potter, 

I really have no idea how our conversation took that turn. And I have no idea what xx is supposed to mean.

Yes, on some level I’ve always known. At least since I had my first unrequited crush at the tender age of eleven.

Parkinson? Blergh. I mean, I do like her, obviously. She’s one of my best friends. Just, you know. Blergh. 

No, my father does not know or it wouldn’t have been necessary to send him to Azkaban. He’d just have imploded. Mother knows I think but we don’t talk about it.

No, I haven’t. Just a kiss, once. Vastly different. Much nicer. (To forestall your next question: Blaise. Part of a dare. He didn’t like it half as much as I did, but he also didn’t mind to continue for the rest of the night. That’s a good friend for you.)

Can we now PLEASE talk about something else?

DLM

***

Sorry, I’m curious. Just one question left - your crush. Was it Ron? XD I’m shocked about Zabini. Well, not really. The rumours about this guy… Some say he’s even had it on with a mermaid. HOW? Okay, something else…

What are you going to do once your house arrest is over? 

I think I really will go back to Hogwarts in September. Ron and Hermione are coming too, most of us really. I heard Zabini will be back as well. You could snog some more.

***

Potter,

kindly never mention such an atrocious thought ever again. Weasley, I mean. The thought of kissing Blaise again isn’t as repulsive, but I’d still decline. 

I thought the minister pulled some strings for you? Didn’t you want to be an auror?

I have no idea what I’ll be doing. Trying to keep my parents’ affairs arranged. Try to clear the Malfoy name. Haha!

I guess I’ll just do what I would always have done. Marry an appropriate pure-blood witch, get a son and hope he’ll be a better person than his father.  

Now if that doesn’t sound nice. 

I wish I could just fuck off, Potter. To somewhere nice and quiet and light and airy. Somewhere as far from the Manor as possible. I could, you know? There are enough possibilities to hide forever. Go to France, start a new life…

But I don’t want to be a coward anymore.

DLM

Forgive my curiosity - do you intend on answering any of those love letters you’re getting?

***

Potter you absolute asshole!!!

Couldn’t keep your meddling Saviour fingers out of my business, could you?

Don’t think I don’t appreciate the effort, I really do. How did you do it? Pulled the Dark-Lord-Slayer card? Did you bribe McGonagall with cookies or nude pics of Hooch? 

DLM

***

Haha, nothing like that. Just so happened that I talked to Kingsley about Hogwarts and let it drop what a shame it is that people on house arrest can’t go and strive to be contributing members of Wizard society later on. Made him think. 

I didn’t know McGonagall would be writing to you so fast. She must’ve wanted to all along. 

Will you come?

***

Potter. 

I can’t. You remember who you’re talking to, right? Death Eater? Helped killing Dumbledore? Let even worse Death Eaters and a fucking werewolf into school? Tortured his fellow students? Malfoy? Any bells ringing in your ignorant scarhead?

I couldn’t leave Mother alone anyway.

But thanks for trying.

DLM

You have never answered the question in my letter from before the last. 

***

Everyone deserves a second chance. And the whole of Hogwarts has seen you desert Voldemort in the end. I’ll never forget that, Draco. You’re much braver than you think. 

Please come back to Hogwarts. It’s your home too. 

Alright, the love letters. I thought about replying to some of them. One must’ve been Fleur’s cousin - you remember Fleur Delacour? Now Fleur Weasley? Anyway, that girl was really pretty and even her photo did send some Veela vibes. I always thought I’m not into a specific hair colour - well it does turn out that I do like blond very much.

***

Potter,

you’re blowing into much the same horn as Pansy and Blaise. Parkinson and Zabini. “Come back, Draco, all is well, nobody wants to kill you or take revenge for all the pain.”

Yeah, sure. 

For fuck’s sake, Potter. I personally would kill me the second I set foot onto Hogwarts ground. 

Don’t worry about me. I still have my mother’s inheritance, they didn’t touch that. I don’t need a seventh year education. Who’d even give me a job? 

DLM

Pro tip, Potter. Blondes are very high maintenance. 

***

Yes, thank you, Malfoy I know your friends’ first names.

I won’t stop asking, you know?

Come back to Hogwarts.

***

I quite depend on that, Potter.

DLM

***

Hey!

Sorry I’ve been so quiet for the last days. A lot happened, ministry stuff and other uninteresting shit. How are you doing? How’s your mother? I saw a picture of the two of you in the Prophet. How come you were allowed to go out? You look thin. Eat something!! (And man, your hair has grown. It’s nearly as long as your father’s now!)

Come back to Hogwarts - the elves would feed you up in no time.

Harry (Potter)

***

Really now, Potter? (Yes, thank you, I know it’s you despite the dozens of Harrys I’m corresponding with.)

What’s with the mother hen approach? I’m fine. Food just doesn’t taste too good when you eat it in the same rooms where a giant snake has eaten people for dinner. 

I can cut my hair if you like. I was just lazy. Looking like my father is pretty much the last thing I want right now. 

The minister wanted to talk to us about the possibility of going back to Hogwarts, which was quite unnecessary. I told him I’m not intending to slight the school with my presence. Mother didn’t say much but I know she wants me to go. 

How can I do that, Potter? 

I just looked in the mirror and see what others see, what you saw - a blond git looking just like his scum of a father (I love my father, don’t get me wrong. But I can’t deny what he was. Is.), who did things so horrible - Potter, they’ll rip me into pieces.

I’m cutting my hair.

I’m not strong enough for that.

DLM

***

I know you’ll rip ME into pieces now but. I could look after you? Saviour complex, you know. Nothing to be done about that. Nobody would dare to do something to you if you’re my friend. Oh Merlin, that sounds SO ARROGANT. It’s still true. 

Come back to Hogwarts with the rest of us. There’d be something missing if you don’t.

I like your hair, no matter the length.

***

Oh, Potter! Yes, please let me be your damsel in distress and faint in your strong arms! Then you can carry me out of the Great Hall while a choir is singing that ghastly song from that ghastly Muggle film Pansy loves so much. Maybe you know it? A black woman and a guy with absolutely no chin. There’s another film with him where he’s wearing tights. 

Rubbish, Potter. You can’t spend all your time in school being my watchdog. You’re there to learn something. And people would think I’m trying to turn you gay and/or evil. Not good for your famous reputation.

DLM

***

I have absolutely zero idea of whose strong arms you’re talking. You can’t mean mine with that. They’re like floppy strings. 

Are you watching a lot of Muggle movies? Where? I mean, you don’t have a telly, do you? Does Parkinson have one? And a VCR? Hey, we could smuggle one into Hogwarts - I bet Seamus can get it to work, he’s good with making magic and electric stuff compatible! We could have a movie night. 

But that can only work when you come back. Will you? 

***

Potter, 

you’re arms are quite alright from what I know. I told you not all of us are into burly, bulging muscles. And no, they’re not “floppy strings”. Last time I’ve seen them they were actually really nice. And now STOP fishing for compliments! 

I can’t, Potter. I can’t look those people in the eyes after all I’ve done to them. 

DLM

***

Ever thought about apologizing? For what you’ve done? I mean - it couldn’t hurt, right? Except your pride, maybe. I bet if you did that, people would give you a chance. Most of them. The ones that count. 

When the fuck have you seen my arms?

***

Merlin’s beard. 

It’s a very telling sign that I’d rather make a fool of myself by waxing about your arms than talking of Hogwarts. Nearly. I haven’t seen your arms ever, okay? My mistake. I sure as hell didn’t watch you after Quidditch or anything. 

Apologizing, hm? You mean like, I’m so sorry, Granger, for calling you Mudblood and being a mean, nasty asshole to you? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down pretty well. 

What  _ are  _ you smoking…

Of course I don’t have a “telly”, whatever this is. Pansy has her own little cinnamon at her home. In an outbuilding. I haven’t been there for a while but she’s constantly yapping about her favourite movies. 

DLM

***

Cinema, Malfoy. Cinema. Okay don’t tell anyone but I made a very loud awww sound when I read that. Cinnamon. I’m dying. Adorable :D

Actually, yeah. Something like that. You don’t have to start with Hermione though. She’s one of the tougher nuts to crack for sure. Better practice on the soft-hearted. Luna, for example. Sorry for locking you up in my basement? How’s that sound? I bet she’d love to forgive you. 

And. Well, it’s just an idea. But how about Hagrid? He’s still there, at Hogwarts, and if he’s your friend it would be A LOT easier. 

When you come back (I’m saying when, not if) we can visit him together and drink tea. At least we know Fang likes you :)

***

I can’t believe I’m saying this, Potter.

I did it. Wrote your friend Hagrid a letter. Now I’m very curious if anything comes of it. Should he send me a howler or some nasty creature to flay my skin of my body I’ll make sure to forward it to you. 

DLM

***

Oh my god you didn’t?? I’m curious too! You’ll be fine, you’ll see. What did you write?

***

Draco? It’s been three days. I’m starting to worry that Hagrid has sent you a skrewt. He hasn’t, right? I know it’s stupid but I’m really kinda worried. 

***

Hold your horses, Potter. I’m fine. Your friend did reply (“Yer fine Mafoy”) and even included a box of very hard cookies. If those aren’t meant to break my teeth, I guess he’s taken my offered olive branch. 

I just wrote that I’m sorry how I treated him, and especially about the Hippogriff affair. And I may have gone a bit over the top and told him he’s a wonderful professor. You know he’s not but I guess his heart is as big as his head what with you so attached to him. 

I haven’t written the last three days because Hephaestion had a cold and I don’t have any other owls at my disposal. Speaking of owls, why are you always using post owls? I remember you had that beautiful white owl.

Lovegood has written me a really long letter, twenty inches of parchment. She’s a nut, but a really nice one. 

DLM

***

Luna’s the best.

You’re obviously not a Prophet subscriber. Then you’d know every fucking detail of my life. Hedwig died in the war. I just can’t replace her. I did go to Eeyelops when I started chatting regularly with you. Going to Diagon for a post owl every day is annoying. Crowds of fans and such. But even considering buying another owl felt like a betrayal to Hedwig. 

I gave Hephaestion a big treat. Glad to see him well again. I missed your letters. They’re much more entertaining than the ones we talked about before. 

Some have spilled love potions upon opening! Don’t tell anyone - people would think I’m scared, which I am NOT - but Kreacher insisted on opening my mail after that and he’s been in love five times now. Good thing I can order him not to go after the objects of his desires until it wears off.

So. Now that you’re on your path to forgiveness from its students and teachers - will you come back to Hogwarts?

Harry James Potter, Saviour of the Wizard World and future winner of the Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award (Not kidding, they have started to send me vaguely threatening letters!)

***

Thank you very much, Potter. I think I pulled a muscle in my cheek reading your last epistle. 

Okay. Deep breath. Here goes. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you. If you want me to go into detail about what it is I’m sorry about, let me know. I have a list. Now you have to say something nice in return and then we’ll be friends, right? 

DLM

***

Draco, you don’t need to go through this with me. I know you’re sorry ok? I know you’ve changed. Not the Draco Malfoy I used to know at school. I wouldn’t write with  _ him _ . Or get all excited when I see his owl at my window. And we are friends already. I think. 

I did things I’m sorry about too. 

Was it a grimace that made you pull a muscle? Or a smile? I’d love to know. In case you couldn’t tell, I was aiming for the latter. 

***

You mean that time where you sliced me open in a bathroom? It’s quite alright, Potter. Gay guys dig scars (I hope).

A smile, Potter. A real, wide smile that - if I may be so bold - is surely much more charming when in full power than yours. Not now, it’s a little rusty - I need more training. Go on, make me smile!

I don’t think you’ve ever smiled at me other than triumphant or something like this. I’d like to know how it is. 

DLM

***

You sneaky bastard!!! You haven’t dropped a syllable that you were writing to Ron and Hermione. I got their bird this morning. Draco, I don’t want this to sound condescending, but. I’m kinda proud of you. This took some balls. 

Did they answer you?

***

Your friends were most gracious. Of course they will never be _my_ friends, but at least we can meet on neutral ground now, should we ever meet again. 

Thinking about my balls, eh Potter?

DLM

***

Oh shush!

So, now you can come back to Hogwarts, right? After all of this. Will you come, Draco? 

It wouldn’t be Hogwarts without you sneering at me across the Hall at breakfast. 

I could even smile at you, now that we’re friends. See if you don’t faint from my overwhelming charms. (Seriously, a witch wrote to me that she’s seen a picture of me smiling in the Prophet and fainted. People are so crazy.)

Hogwarts will be strange enough this year. Ginny back with Dean, Ron and Hermione together… I wish them all the luck in the world, but I cannot help feeling like the third wheel. 

You’ll come, won’t you? 

I would be very sad if you didn’t.

I’m definitely going to stay over the Christmas break. And I just bet all the others are going home… It’s a time you should spend with your family. And I always liked Hogwarts at Christmas time. Do you think you’ll stay too? I’d like that. Your company.

***

Alright, Potter. For what it’s worth. I’ll come. 

***

HUSSAH! (Imagine fanfares)

You might find this weird but I kind of wish I could hug you now. Imagine that in the Prophet - Saviour hugs Childhood Nemesis! And your father would get a heart attack :) 

(I don’t mean it in a wishful thinking kind of way, I swear)

Just so you know, I talked to McGonagall the other day and apparently she’s very big on inter-house-unity or something like this right now. All eight-years are going to share one dorm. We can chat until midnight and braid our hair! :)

And get that telly, and watch Muggle movies. Horror movies, maybe. Or cheesy romances. Or action thrillers. Whatever you like. 

We can go to Hogsmeade together, I’m sure we can get Kingsley to extend the house arrest to stretch as far as Hogsmeade. I miss Hogsmeade. We can go to the Three Broomsticks and you can apologize to Madam Rosmerta for Imperiusing her. Is that even a word? 

Sorry, I’m rambling. I just feel really giddy!!

***

You think I want to chat and have my hair braided? I’m gay, Potter, not a girl. 

And I think I had enough horror already for the rest of my life, thank you. 

AND what makes you think I would want to be hugged by you? Or go with you to Hogsmeade (which won’t happen, the ministry won’t allow it)?

We’re something like friends now, Potter. That doesn’t mean I’m your pet. 

DLM

***

I’m… sorry? 

I didn’t mean anything like you seem to have taken it. I guess I just like your hair. And I like hugging people. Especially my friends. And I actually don’t want a pet ok? I want to be your friend. And I want you to be mine. My friend I mean. 

I just thought, that’s stuff that friends do with each other and well. I want us to do friends things. Okay maybe not hair braiding, that was a joke. How about Exploding Snap?

You were in the Prophet again. Please, Malfoy. Eat something. Or I’ll have to come over and personally stuff food in your mouth. And no, I’m not kidding. I could come over. Your hair looks good though.

A question. Why did you decide to come back after all? 

***

Don’t. You don’t want to be here. You don’t want to be around me. 

Sorry for my last note. I was - in a bad mood I guess. Don’t ask why. 

Maybe I’m scared. 

I’m sorry to read about you not wanting pets - if you don’t like him, send him back with a note and I’ll keep him. I’m sure he’ll get along with Hephaestion famously. 

Anyway, his name is Alexander the Great - and yes, you have to call him Alexander the Great, I accidently did at first and now he won’t listen if you just call him Alexander, or Merlin forbid, Alex.

Consider it an apology. And remember, you didn’t replace Hedwig with him - I chose him, so you can blame me.

DLM

It must’ve been the combined nagging powers of you and Pansy and Blaise. Or maybe it was what you said about Christmas. I like Hogwarts at Christmas too. Having it at the manor - the thought is appalling. Spending it at Hogwarts with a friend sounds too good to be true. Mother will spend it in Azkaban - her own choice and not one I can talk her out of. She really loves him, despite everything.

***

YOU GOT ME AN OWL!?!?!

Draco, he’s gorgeous. I can’t thank you enough - of course I want him! THANK YOU!!!

How on earth did you buy him? Since you’re not allowed to go out? Whatever, I don’t care, I love my new owl! Forget anything I said about pets, okay? I want my new pet. 

And you’re right. Getting him from someone else really is a lot better than having to choose one for myself. That’s very thoughtful of you, and very nice. Thank you. 

Next time I’m near the library or writing to Hermione, I’ll inquire about Alexander the Great. I vaguely remember him from Muggle school, wasn’t he some conqueror? 

THANK YOU!!!!! (If you want or not, now I HAVE to hug you when we meet again. Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?)

***

Potter, 

it actually was pretty easy. At our last visit to the ministry I asked the Head Auror if he could let me go to Diagon for a second for some shopping. He laughed in my face, I said the magical words - It’s a gift for Harry Potter - and off we were to Eeylops. 

You should’ve seen his face when I really just bought an owl and not some secret dark magic weapon of mass destruction. Poor fool. He was so disappointed. 

Do me a favour, Potter, stop asking to come over. I cannot let you set foot in here, believe me. It’ll take years to get the stench and the rotten energy out. Mother is working on it, and I try to help, but it’s not easy. 

Not that I wouldn’t like to see you - I think I can only believe I’m finally friends with Harry Potter when I see your shaggy head for myself, and your eyes not glaring murder at me for once. 

But you really cannot come here. Our glorious reunion has to wait until we meet at King’s Cross. Two weeks, Potter. I’m sure you’ll wait with bated breath. I’m looking forward to it - in a masochistic kind of way maybe. 

I can do this, Potter. I promise I can do this. 

DLM

***

YES WE CAN! Sorry for all the capitals. 

Only two weeks until September! 

Do you think it’ll snow this year? I really want to have a (friendly of course) snowball fight with you. Ruffle your pristine feathers a bit. 

HJP (because I can)

I’m so happy I can’t even tell you!

***

You’re a number, Potter. Who’d ever have thought you’d be happy to see me? Who’d ever have thought I’m happy to see you? I’ve a question. Did you tell your friends of your new addition to your friend collection? If yes, what did they say? I don’t think they’re thrilled, am I right?

DLM

***

Oh come on! Of course I told them - and I will definitely not tell you what Ron had to say to that. I want you guys to get along. Just know that it was something about gits and ferrets - but that was before you wrote to them, now they’re all mellow, I swear!

I know it’s ridiculous but I have packed already. Nearly everything that I need except Alexander the Great’s stuff. Speaking of him, uh… Did you know that the real Alexander and the real Hephaestion were best friends and quite possibly more? Looked it up and well. Was that on purpose or did you not know until now that I’m telling you?

***

I knew. Thought it would be funny. They’re a disappointment though in that regard. Whenever your owl comes over he and my owl start clicking their beaks and throwing mean glances at each other. I guess they’re jealous over who gets to deliver the most letters. 

Potter, I need to ask you a favour. Believe me, I hate having to do it, but you’re my last chance. Could you speak to the minister and see if it is possible that Mother can reside someplace else while the Manor is being cleared of all the dark magic? She’s getting worse. It’s weighing heavily on her.

DLM

***

Draco, please don’t ever hesitate to ask me anything, okay? I talked to Kingsley and may have threatened to stop being the ministry’s good little Harry - well, the end of the song is that your mother can leave for another place for as long as it takes. Now you better sit down, big news coming. Kingsley will talk to the Unspeakables if maybe they can help, quicken the process. AND I have found a place for your mother to stay at - if she wants to. 

Your aunt Andromeda sends greetings. She’s willing to take her sister in for the time. I think she wants to bury the hatchet. She’s lost too many people already. Could you tell her mother to owl her? 

***

Potter, you are unbelievable. Thank you. Mother thanks you. I can’t - Potter, you’re incredible. That hug you threatened me with? I might return it. 

DLM

***

Hey, I’m happy to help. What will you do in the meantime? They’ll start pretty soon, and it’s still over a week till Hogwarts. I’d offer to have you here at Grimmauld Place, but that was one suggestion too much for Kingsley. I fear having you at Hogwarts is already costing him enough resources. 

Worth it though. 

***

Mother is gone to Aunt Andromeda today. I’m all alone. No one is in here with me except the elves. They avoid me. I feel bad, Potter. 

Do you ever wake up screaming? Do you ever surge up in your bed only to see His face and scream again - and it’s another dream, and you wake up and He’s there, until you really wake up and can’t breathe and your throat hurts from all the cries and nobody ever comes, nobody ever hears you? 

Do you know that feeling, Harry? Please tell me you know.

***

Draco, I’m coming over as soon as I get the ok from Robards. I’m not leaving you there on your own anymore. 

***

Potter, stay where you are. I overreacted. A bout of bad magic maybe. I’m okay, I’m over it. The works have begun, don’t come over. You’d just be in the way.

Can you do me a favour? Tell me something nice. Something harmless, something fun. Pretend my last note doesn’t exist. I implore you, Potter. Please do this for me. As my friend. 

***

I don’t understand you at all, Draco. But as you wish:

Haha, you won’t believe it. I got a letter from Seamus yesterday. Apparently Ginny and Dean aren’t together anymore. I think Seamus has a crush on Dean. What do you think? Any insight from the inside?

I will see Ginny on Sunday - the Weasleys asked me to lunch, and now that Ron is back I think I should go - then I’ll get it out of her what happened. And if she thinks Seamus has a chance with Dean. 

It’ll be good to see them again. I’ve missed them all a lot, especially Ron, and Ginny even more perhaps. 

Six more days. Six more days and we’re home.

***

Hey Malfoy! 

Um… it’s been four (!) days. Are you alright? If you’re sick or anything could you ask one of the ministry guys to drop me a line, confirm that you’re ok? I’m worried again. Probably for nothing. 

***

Malfoy?! 

Five days, Malfoy! What is wrong? Please tell me! Did I do something? Are you okay? Did you leave? Please tell me you didn’t leave.  

***

Okay, I know you’re at the manor. I was actually worried enough to ask Robards if you have bailed or something. He says you’re there. Why won’t you answer?

Harry James I’m fucking worried about you Potter 

***

I don’t get it. I really don’t get it. Please tell me what happened. Tell me what I did so I can fix it. Just bloody talk to me. 

***

Okay have it your way. 

See you tomorrow at King’s Cross. If you even show up. 

***

Malfoy. This is all wrong. Nothing is like I wanted it. Why? Don’t go on ignoring me, please. I know you’re avoiding me. Always the first out of your room and the dorm, always the last to come back. I want to go looking for you but I don’t know what I’ll find. 

What have I done?  

I thought we were friends. 

***

Stop it, Potter. I thought I can do this, but turns out I can’t. I’ll never be anyone else but Malfoy. And being Malfoy is simply not good enough. 

***

I just don’t get it, Draco. I was so looking forward to seeing you, with different eyes now, seeing my friend who’s been talking to me and cheering me up for months - you don’t know how much your letters and your sarcasm helped, really. I was such a mess… without you I’d still be. 

It’s stupid, after your week-long silence before September, but my heart still beat so fast when I came onto the platform and started looking for you. And it nearly stopped when I finally saw you, and you looked right over me. Didn’t acknowledge me. 

I don’t know what I expected, but certainly not this. That hurt, Draco. And it hurts that you don’t tell me what I did wrong. 

Ron says I’m stupid and that I should stop pining. He’s right. I’m stupid. I thought we’d - scratch that. I was so wrong it’s ridiculous.

***

You keep ignoring me. It’s been nearly three months now and all you do is looking through me whenever you happen to look in my direction. Am I invisible all of a sudden? I’m watching you like back in sixth year. You’re so white, pale doesn’t even cut it anymore. And you look as if you’re in pain. 

You’re back at Hogwarts. Surely there must be something to make you happy? If not seeing me, at least being back, with your friends. Being home. Draco. I so want to see you happy. 

I still feel the need to write to you - I can’t stop. The last months were so empty without it. I’ll just treat it as a diary. One that doesn’t jinx Ginny. See? I’m pretending you’re still writing back and I can still talk to you like I did all summer. You can of course destroy my letters or wipe your ass with them for all I care. Enough.

News! Speaking of Ginny, what do you say to that incredibleness ? Who’d have thought. Ginny and Zabini. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin. It is possible after all. They make a good-looking couple. 

Poor Seamus didn’t have much luck so far. He’s trying to drop hints and flirt - I swear Dean is as thick as a tree, he doesn’t get it at all. I say, Seamus should just grab and kiss him. 

Maybe drag him under a mistletoe - Hagrid has started on the Christmas decoration now. Little early, it’s still November. 

I’ve seen you going down to Hagrid’s, don’t think I don’t know you’ve been visiting him. He won’t tell me what you talk about though. Just grumbles something about, none of your business Harry do you want a cookie.

I miss you. 

***

Snow, Draco. Remember when we talked about it? I wanted to have a snowball fight with you. Then come in all exhausted and cold and have a good hot butterbeer at the fireplace. Snowflakes melting in your hair. I feel so stupid now. 

Christmas can come or not, I don’t care. I still have the present I found for you. Maybe I’ll just burn it. I was so looking forward to this, the calm, the peace, the festiveness. Now everything is dull. Hermione and Ron are fed up with me moping - took them long enough. 

I just can’t stand it, all the fake cheerfulness, as if nothing has ever happened. You wouldn’t do it. You’d never pretend all is fine when we know it isn’t. You’d still cheer me up with little snide remarks about my hair or my glasses or something like this. 

I miss you.

***

I’m not sending this, so. What’s the harm. I want to kiss you every day, Draco. Everytime I see you, when you don’t manage to avoid me for once. It’s been in my head for some time now. At least since August, I think. That picture of you… All skin and bones and as pointy as ever, but still. You looked so sad. So defeated. Your mouth pulled down, and suddenly I wondered how it would be to kiss that mouth. 

At first I was really startled. I mean, I haven’t ever thought of guys like that, you know? And certainly not of you of all people. But it somehow became stuck in my brain, that image of kissing you. I got used to it, told myself it’s nothing important. Just some fantasy. 

But when you stopped writing, after I was worried I became angry, and after being angry I felt so sad. I felt more sad than when Ginny broke up with me. And when I saw you in King’s Cross - Draco, I wanted it so bad!

Was it this? Did you somehow know I wanted more than to be just your friend? I wouldn’t have acted on it, really. Not unless you’d told me you wanted it too, which I didn’t think would ever be the case, so. You were actually quite safe from me. 

And maybe you knew you could never return my feelings and wanted to break off all contact before hurting me. That’d be… stupid. And incredibly nice. I will never find out, will I? 

If being friends with you is all I can have I’d take it and be glad. Because as it is now - it’s hell. I’m in love for the first time in my life, really in love, not just a crush or a game. With you. 

Oh god I should burn this letter. 

I miss you.

***

Potter,

you really should’ve burned that letter (I’m glad you didn’t). You know which one I’m talking about? The one you didn’t want to send. A very tiny, very fluffy, very noisy owl brought it tonight. His owner must’ve grabbed the letter from your desk or something, it’s pretty crumpled. You’ve got a real friend there. 

I’m absolutely not going to say anything to the things you wrote, I’m shaking too much to write more than this - but if you really meant everything you wrote -  I’ll be waiting at the Christmas Tree in the Great Hall right  _ now _ . I’m the one in silver and green, beaming like a hopeful idiot. 

Harry Potter thinks I’m good enough for him - this sounds too good for someone like me, too good to be true.

Don’t let me wait too long. 

Draco Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater, complete and utter fuckwit (hopefully soon-to-be-kissed by Harry Potter)  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first try at Drarry Smut.   
> *oh god*

_ One year later… _

 

“Admit it. Your knees were shaking like mad when you saw me coming.”

Draco laughs, that soft little chuckle that Harry has come to associate with a very specific mood. It makes his stomach tighten in anticipation. 

“You’re known to have that effect on my knees every now and then, yes,” Draco replies, stretching out on the couch like a lazy cat. “Especially when you have that look in your eye.”

“Look?” Harry asks, slightly puzzled. As far as he knows he’s always looking just the same when Draco is the one he’s looking at. Slightly idiotic - and utterly besotted. 

He gets up on all fours from his sprawl on the hearthrug, slowly crawling over to the couch, watching Draco watch him with a sly smile. He’s shirtless, only wearing soft black trousers, and the pale skin of his chest is glowing in the soft lamplight, his nipples are peaked, tiny and pink and--

“ _ That _ look, Potter. Like I’m a feast spread out just for you…” Draco turns onto his side, head propped up on one hand, the other hand slowly stroking down his ribs and over his stomach, lingering there. “Like you want to just swallow me whole.”

Merlin, Harry wants to. Everything about Draco is delectable, his arrogant posturing, his slow, lazy smile, the challenge in his glittering grey eyes, the soft wafts of his lemony scent drifting over and assaulting Harry’s senses…

And it’s all there for him to take, just for him. Forever. That had been one of the first things Draco had told him, when they had broken away from their first kiss. 

_ I’m in for the long run, Potter. Take it all, take it forever, or leave it right here and now. Once I have given my heart, there’s no way back.  _

Harry had stood there, under the gigantic Christmas tree, Draco’s heart in his hands and his own beating so fast, his lips still tingling from the kiss… How could he have thrown it back at him, when he’d finally won it?

That first kiss… It had been overwhelming. Devastating. Brief, but fierce, all too soon cut short by Draco’s declaration. After which he had looked at Harry with heartbreaking earnest, vulnerable, and so hopeful. Harry had simply kissed him again.

And that second kiss, there in the Great Hall, watched by the entirety of Hogwarts… It had been everything Harry had ever dreamed of, soft and slow and full of--

“Potter.”

\--full of passion and promises and--

“Potter, stop drooling like a moron and come over here!”

Harry shakes his head, slowly reverting from his trip down memory lane, eyes zooming in on the here and now. Which is Draco, by now sitting up and looking slightly put out. 

“Wherever have you been in your head right now?” he asks, clearly miffed about Harry’s lapse in attention. “Quidditch again?”

Harry snorts derisively. Really, that has happened  _ one single time _ , that he’s zoned out when they were having breakfast with Narcissa, and all they had been talking about had been plants and boring flowers - no wonder he’d started drifting off in his head. Fortunately, Narcissa hadn’t noticed. 

Unfortunately, Draco had.

Now Harry grins, sitting back on his heels, raising his hands in surrender. “Only about you, last Christmas, my lord and master.” He smiles at the smug twitch of Draco’s lips, crawling nearer until he’s between Draco’s spread legs, laying his hands on his thighs. 

Draco studies him, the battle between delight and trying to look haughty and regal plain on his face. Merlin, Harry loves his face, how easy his expressions are to read for him now. He always knows what Draco is thinking these days, and so he knows what comes next. 

Draco purses his lips, lifting his pointy chin in a gesture of pure arrogance - and with one quick move opens his belt, sliding down until Harry’s eyes are level with his crotch - and the growing bulge there. Draco smiles now, at Harry’s expression, presumably. Dumb, and wanting, Harry guesses. 

“Since you failed to deliver the full attention I deserve, you will have to make it up to me,” Draco proclaims, and with one careless flick of his hand, the buttons plop open neatly, one after the other. 

He should never, Harry thinks in grudging admiration, have taught Draco wandless magic. Because of course the end of it had been Draco being brilliant at it, elegant and neat, while Harry still feels like a bull in a china shop. If he had been the one doing it, the buttons would be scattered all across the floor now. 

In retaliation he leans back, pulling on Draco’s trousers until they come off, entirely inelegant of course, and, ignoring Draco’s indignant huff, vanishes his pants with a quick wink. That’s something Harry’s really good at. Vanishing things. 

Perhaps because he had always been too greedy, hadn’t been able to wait for Draco to undress himself when they first had gone further than heated kisses and desperate friction. Draco had been speechless then, a rare occasion, standing stark naked in Harry’s bedroom. 

“Living with you is becoming expensive,” he says now, unable to hide the pleasure on his face as Harry reaches out to stroke his dick, uncovered and hard now. “I swear I cannot buy them as fast as you vanish them.”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” Harry mutters, focussed on the silky, warm feeling of Draco’s dick in his hand, the smooth glide of his hand up and down the shaft. “Or just stop wearing them. They’re inconvenient when I want to do this.”

And with that he bends his head and takes Draco in his mouth. Harry closes his eyes as he takes him deep, relishing the familiar taste, the familiar gasps and trembles. Draco’s hands come tangling in Harry’s hair, searching for purchase as Harry swallows around the hard length in his mouth. 

“Salazar… Harry, you’re killing me…”

Harry smiles as good as he can with a mouthful of dick, stroking his hands up Draco’s thighs and over his heaving stomach. It’s always ‘Harry’ when they’re doing this, something Draco just can’t get used to otherwise. Harry doesn’t mind. ‘Potter’ is sounding like a pet name now, coming from Draco. 

“Harry, stop, I’ll come if you… ah… if you keep this up… Please…”

Harry pulls back, looking up at Draco’s face. It’s flushed a slight pink now, blond strands stuck to his forehead. Harry loves this, loves when he takes Draco apart, when he makes him lose his elegant cool. 

“What now, centre of my universe?” Harry asks, pressing a kiss to the glistening top of Draco’s dick. “How do we want it tonight?”

“Silently,” Draco grumbles, then cries out when Harry takes him in once more, just the tip, licking and sucking and teasing the slit with his tongue. “Potter, I swear by Merlin’s balls…”

“Ah,” Harry says, tilting his head. “Balls it is?”

He takes a firm grip on Draco’s cock, nosing underneath and carefully taking one pert ball into his mouth. Draco arches off the couch, his back a rigid line, crying out in shock and pleasure. 

“Harry… what… fuck!”

“Eloquent,” Harry mumbles, before administering the same treatment to the other side, his own cock rock hard in his jeans. 

“Harry,  _ please… _ ”

He knows what Draco wants, what it is he needs when his voice starts to sound pleading like this. Mumbling the words under his breath, Harry immediately feels the cool, slightly sharp tinge of a cleaning charm flitting over his hole, followed by a slick wetness. 

Placing a last, sucking kiss on Draco’s hip Harry lets go of his dick and rises to his feet, starting to unzip his jeans when Draco suddenly growls. Harry looks up in surprise, having no time to ask what is wrong when suddenly he feels cool air touch his skin. Harry gazes down. His shirt, jeans  _ and  _ pants are gone. 

“Draco, what…”

“I  _ need _ you, Harry.” Draco’s voice is a comical mix between cross and desperate, and Harry chuckles. Draco groans. “ _ Would you kindly come here and let me fuck you!!” _

“Since you’re asking so nicely…”

Harry steps into Draco’s waiting arms, having quite enough of wait and suspense himself. But he still wants to take it slow, savour every moment. 

He slides both hands in the soft, feathery curtain of Draco’s hair, bringing their mouths together in a heated kiss while bracketing Draco’s hips, coming to kneel on the couch. 

These moments are the second best thing about having sex with Draco. How his arms immediately wind around Harry, how their bodies touch from their chests to their cocks sliding against each other in a slow, delicious glide…

The kiss turns wetter as Draco angles his head to give Harry better access, tongues moving, teeth biting into soft lips, moans and gasps hanging between them…

Draco shifts, his hands coming down from Harry’s back to take a firm hold of his arse, spreading his cheeks, his cock sliding between them. The kiss breaks as Draco tilts his head back, breathing quickly. 

“Are you ready? Can I..?”

Harry bravely withstands the impulse to roll his eyes. Yes, Draco’s big, and the first minute or so is always pretty eye-watering, but it gets so good so fast… Instead of answering he rocks down, crying out as the blunt head of Draco’s cock presses into his slick entrance. 

“Harry…”

And  _ this _ moment is what’s best. Draco looking up at him in wonder, eyes silver-hazy, lips parted, cheeks flushed as he pushes into Harry steadily, a smooth, stretching glide that lights Harry’s whole body up like a bonfire. 

“I love you so much,” Draco says, the words almost a sob as he buries his face against Harry’s skin, wet warmth collecting in the hollow of his neck where Draco’s tears gather. 

Harry bites his lip, pressing down as close as he can, Draco’s cock sliding impossibly deeper, their bodies nearly melting together, arms wound around each other, almost one.

“I love you too.”

For a moment they stay like this, until Harry gets restless, the fullness in him beginning to set him on edge. He needs Draco to move, so he places a soft kiss on top of his head, inhaling deeply. Draco makes a sound, a soft little noise, and Harry braces himself.

Now it really starts. 

Draco’s thrust comes quick, sliding out a little before pushing back in. Harry cries out, and Draco finally lifts his head. His eyes are dark now, slanted, glittering with something darker. Wanting. Possessive. 

“Off with you.”

His voice has an edge now, too, and Harry hurries to obey. He pulls off Draco’s cock, wincing slightly as he’s left empty, slick and stretched. 

“Where,” he asks, his legs trembling, his whole body brimming with need. “Where, Draco?”

Draco is still on the couch, body a tense line, cock jutting out proud and heavy. He looks Harry up and down for a long moment. “Floor,” he finally decides. “Down on your hands and knees.”

Harry can’t contain the full body shudder running through him as he drops down, his knees smarting against the rough carpet, every inch of him dying in anticipation. 

Draco doesn’t let him wait long. A long, drawn-out moan, a thump, and he’s behind Harry, mounting him without so much as a single touch. And then he starts to move. 

Long, deep thrusts, hard, harder, groans and hisses, harsh hands on Harry’s hips holding him in place as Draco slams into him again and again, until the world is spinning and Harry’s throat is raw from his screams. 

It’s powerful, focussed, the way Draco lets his cock push into Harry, the thick length almost constantly brushing his prostate. Harry’s own cock is hanging heavily between his legs, untouched, steadily leaking precome onto the carpet. 

A last hard push and Draco tenses, his fingers digging into Harry’s skin so hard he knows it’ll bruise. Tomorrow Draco will feel guilty about it, will kiss and stroke every single mark with that characteristic softness, will ignore Harry’s insistence that he’s okay. 

Now he doesn’t care, now his hand slides up Harry’s sweat-slicked back until it rests between his shoulder blades. A slight, insistent push, and Harry lays down, glad to rest his trembling arms. 

Arse still high up in the air, Harry rests his cheek on his arms and closes his eyes. He’s still hard, but he trusts Draco to take care of him. He always did, and he does now, kneading Harry’s arse, two fingers wandering up and down his cleft, smearing Draco’s own come into Harry’s skin. 

Despite his release still waiting, Harry relaxes. He knows what Draco wants, what he wants to do. The first time he’d asked if Harry would be okay with it… he’d been so nervous, obviously waiting for Harry to be repulsed. Harry had been fascinated. 

The first lick is always slightly surprising, wet and hot and intense, making his skin tingle and his hard dick twitch, another dribble of precome leaking from the tip. By the third lick, Harry is already a mess under Draco’s skilled hands and lips, cleaning him meticulously of every drop. 

And when Draco’s long fingers wrap around Harry’s cock, he barely has to stroke a couple of times before Harry cries out, staining the already ruined carpet beyond salvaging. 

He sinks down slowly, rolling onto his side. Harry’s still panting with the intensity of his orgasm when Draco suddenly flings himself on top of Harry, knocking the last bit of air out of his lungs. 

“Was it good? Was I good?”

Always the same question, and Harry’s answer is always the same as well.

“Perfect.”

Draco, grinning smugly now, drapes his naked body over Harry’s like a bony, edgy blanket, showering his face with kisses. 

“I do love taking you apart, Potter. One could even say I have a talent for it.”

Harry grins, catching Draco’s face and cradling it between his palms. “You definitely do.” He kisses him, long and tender. 

“Merry Christmas.”

Draco smiles, shy and sweet now. 

“Happy first anniversary.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> ....they kissed. If anyone wonders ;)


End file.
